


The Thing About Water

by LikeATeddyBear



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: BBC Sherlock - Freeform, Community: sherlockbbc_fic, Community: sherlockkink, M/M, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-10-19
Updated: 2011-10-19
Packaged: 2017-10-24 19:07:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,058
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/266855
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LikeATeddyBear/pseuds/LikeATeddyBear
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Baths are relaxing. Tripping in mud is not.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Thing About Water

The thing about water was that it turned dirt into mud, which made less than ideal conditions for chasing criminals through back yards and over fences in suburban areas in late day during a thunderstorm.

The thing about water was that it made chasing criminals rather inconvenient, especially, as stated above, while it was extremely muddy and raining a flood.

The thing about water was that walking into the flat soaked gave Mrs. Hudson a reason to complain about the mess and say “I’m not your housekeeper!”

Even though that would have, at any other time, made John laugh, he merely slugged upstairs after Sherlock, completely exhausted and in deep need of a shower.

As he entered the bathroom, however, Sherlock came rushing up.

“John, what are you doing? You took a shower this morning. You’re fine.” John looked at him, exasperated.

“Sherlock, I’m covered in mud.”

“That’s your own fault for slipping. I’ve got an experiment that requires the bathtub.”

“Yeah? Well, I’m using it, and there’s nothing you can do about it,” John replied defiantly, closing the door in his face. He heard Sherlock huff, he heard his tension.

“Fine. A shower. I can wait as long as you don’t take a bath!” Sherlock snapped through the door. John was beyond annoyed.

“Actually, Sherlock, that sounds fantastic. Sounds extremely relaxing, to be honest. I think I will take a bath. And you sound like you need some relaxing, as well. Why don’t you have yourself a cup of tea?” John stripped off his shirt, but didn’t move away from the door.

“I’m fine.”

“You’re tense, go have some tea,” John commanded in his rarely used military voice.

Sherlock gave a huff and John heard him stomp off as he took off the rest of his clothes and started the shower. He rinsed himself off and washed as quickly as possible, and then got out and started running the tub. He thought for a moment while it was filling and added bubble liquid, making the bath smell fantastic and, on top of that, he had amazing bubbles to play with as he relaxed.

He stepped into the hot tub, loving how the bubbles felt on his skin. It was a faint tickle that vanished the second his skin touched the hot, amazing water. He soon sunk completely into the bath, heaving a sigh and closing his eyes.

John inhaled deeply, smelling the bubbles that he got for Christmas from a friend who had no idea what John might like. He mentally thanked her, sighing again at the heat of the water and the amazing smell that filled the steam around him.

Suddenly, a hand covered his eyes. He gave a start, hands coming up to move the hand.

“Don’t,” Sherlock’s voice said and John paused, and then slowly lowered his hands, frowning.

“Sherlock, what are you doing?”

“You said I needed to relax and the tea did not help one little bit.” John felt Sherlock pushing him over. His feet on John’s left side and his naked –oh god, he was completely naked!? – arse near his knees. Thank God the bath was fairly large, or they both wouldn’t fit.

“This hardly seems appropriate,” John grumbled, Sherlock leaning backwards after he settled down in the tub, uncovering John’s eyes. John glared at him. Sherlock shrugged.

“I don’t see the problem. It seems that it would be a waste of water if I were to wait and run a bath when you finished.” John stared at him for a second.

“Sherlock, you must know that this is a complete invasion of my personal space?”

“John, would you calm down? This really doesn’t have to be as much of a big deal as you’re making it.”

John opened his mouth to argue, but make a comical noise and clenched his fists in the bubbles, causing bubbles to fly in his face. He cleared his face in time to catch the end of the snigger and smirk traced on Sherlock’s face. He rolled his eyes.

“Relax,” Sherlock said, half grinning in amusement and shaking his head. John looked at him for a second, and then sighed reluctantly, relaxing in the tub, adrenalin of the chase still rushing through him.

They ignored each other for a while. They were enjoying the time when the water was so hot that it nearly stung – pulling at their muscles and forcing them to relax. The smell was soothing, as well, filling the haze around them and flooding their minds with a pleasant feeling. They both sighed at the same time, relaxed and content.

“Needs more bubbles,” Sherlock muttered. John opened his eyes and looked at Sherlock. He was building with the bubbles, leaving large gaps in the water. John’s eyes widened and he cleared his throat, keeping his eyes on the bubble sculpture – which, really, was amazing. Looked just like a human hand. John was impressed. That is, until Sherlock started stealing his bubbles, along with his last bit of dignity.

“Sherlock!” John nearly yelped, pulling his knees up slightly and turning his body. “Would you please at least give me the dignity of bath bubbles!?”

Sherlock stared at John for a couple of seconds, and then destroyed the bubble sculpture, spreading the bubbles. He heaved a sigh at the burning, amazing hot water spreading relief through his body. John watched his expression go from tense to the most vulnerably relaxed he had ever see him. He gave the smallest gasp in the world.

Sherlock, being Sherlock, noticed it at once, but didn’t mention it. Instead, he lowered the tone of his voice and sunk lower into the tub, “accidentally” brushing the side of his leg against John’s thigh.

“I don’t see why you have to be so bashful about this, John. You ARE a doctor.” John flushed at the tone and Sherlock could nearly feel his heart beat through the water. He lowered his voice another octave, opening his eyes and watching John’s flushed ears and slightly shocked expression. “Are you afraid of me, Doctor Watson?”

John stared at him. Their eye-contact wasn’t awkward. Far from it. It was heated with the adrenalin from the chase, the amazing feeling of the hot bath relaxing them, and the silence that said so many things. Finally, John answered in a husk.

“God, no,” John said before flinching ever so slightly at how obvious he had sounded. Sherlock was happy, however. He smiled at John, unable to halt his smile before it hit his lips. John reluctantly smiled back, feeling that maybe it wasn’t a bad thing that Sherlock knew. Almost suddenly, Sherlock’s eyes turned wicked and John gulped.

The thing about hot water was that it caused Sherlock to look much more appealing than he had already looked previously.

The thing about hot water was that it did nothing to ease away the rush of adrenaline from the chase.

The thing about hot water was that the nice feeling didn’t help John to calm himself down.

The thing about hot water was that the bubbles eventually dissolved.

And Sherlock surely noticed this right away, eyes heated and still on John’s face, even if his attention was drawn elsewhere. John slowly started feeling uncomfortable under Sherlock’s gaze. He was being studied, and… God, it was hot.

The way Sherlock’s eyes pierced him. The way his jaw clenched ever so slightly as he thought. The way that smirk took over his expression, putting a gleam in his eyes. John gulped slightly again and Sherlock raised an eyebrow.

And then he looked away. Sherlock was now seemingly daydreaming. He looked like he could fall asleep right there in the tub. John blinked in surprise, his face cooling off from the study. He gave a small sigh and closed his eyes again.

The thing about water was that it should make a noise when Sherlock decided to slink his hand up John’s thigh.

John stopped breathing, but, otherwise, didn’t show Sherlock that he had noticed. He knew he was being stupid, he knew Sherlock already knew, but he liked playing games. He could practically feel Sherlock’s smirk through his hand as it squeezed his thigh, thin fingertips digging in painfully.

John caught himself before his eyebrows furrowed and began breathing again, carefully. He couldn’t seem to breathe quiet enough. The quieter he tried to breathe, the less air he got. It was as if breathing was causing him to suffocate.

“John,” a deep voice purred out in a sort of warning tone. A “don’t play, I know you want this” sort of tone. A “give in, the adrenaline is still there pushing you to jump me” sort of tone. Or maybe this was just John’s mind acting up; assuming all the best from that one simple utterance. He wasn’t going to move, however, he decided.

He swore he could hear Sherlock smirk at him. Sherlock shifted and, suddenly, was no longer touching John at all. John’s mind had just started down the road of acceptance when his legs were suddenly and forcefully spread. He nearly yelled, but he remembered what he had been doing and stayed completely calm. He heard Sherlock give a dark chuckle.

Skillful hands massaged at his thighs and he really had to work at it to keep his eyes closed. He felt watched and embarrassed. The water moved around him and the hands moved from his thighs. Sherlock’s body came down lightly onto John’s, arms on either side of him resting on his forearms. John blinked open his eyes, his surprise getting the better of him.

He had expected to see Sherlock smirking at him, looking smug and basking in his self-importance.

What he saw wasn’t that. Sherlock looked very blank. If John hadn’t known him so well, he wouldn’t have been able to read him past the expression. He could see the awe in his eyes, the confusion, the adrenalin, the hesitance, the joy, and, most of all, the lust. John searched Sherlock’s face and opened his mouth to speak.

“You seem very sure of yourse-“ Sherlock’s eyes gave a gleam as he interrupted.

“Pardon me, Doctor Watson, but I think I have a medical emergency,” Sherlock said as he tried his best to hide his grin that expressed all of his joy that John hadn’t been ignoring him in hopes that he’d go away. John’s eyes narrowed as a smirk played at his lips.

“Do you?”

“Yes. I’d much appreciate it if I could try out a cure I heard about.” John shook his head, frowning. Sherlock frowned. “What?”

“I’m sorry to say that it doesn’t work like that,” John stated, face grim. “I’M the doctor. The patient most certainly does NOT treat himself unless I say so.” Sherlock’s mouth opened in a tiny, silent “oh,” yet some of the disappointment remained.

“Now,” John continued, “What is this medical emergency? Though, I’m sure I can guess,” he muttered. Sherlock gave a fake sigh.

“Well, you see, Doctor,” Sherlock pushed his hips forward very suddenly. John had to bite his tongue to stop the gasp from escaping. “I seem to have this odd swelling.”

John nearly grimaced. He knew Sherlock was going for sexy, but he obviously didn’t think about how horrible that would sound – especially since John was a doctor and was constantly working with people with actually issues with odd swellings and whatnot.

But he ignored it the best he could. Sherlock would learn.

“Aha,” John muttered. “And what exactly was the remedy you had in mind?” Sherlock’s expression went wicked, leaning in closer and purring out his response.

“It’s very complicated and involves a lubricant,” Sherlock smirked. John’s mouth fell open a fraction, his breathing hitched a bit, and he gave a soft exhale of breath that was pure want.

“I think that might work, yeah,” he managed. Sherlock chuckled with a smirk and leaned so that their foreheads were pressed together. It was a very intimate feeling. They were close, their lips were very, very close, and they were breathing each other’s air. It was an incredible feeling for both of them, causing their eyes to be heavy lidded and their breathing heavy.

John tipped his head up and caught Sherlock’s lips. Sherlock actually tensed up in surprise, but melted into the kiss. John felt relieved and wrapped his arms around Sherlock as he carefully carried on. He was kissing Sherlock in a very soothing, lazy way.

But Sherlock had other ideas. He was very serious about his previous plan and was still rushed with the adrenalin of the chase. He not only melted into the kiss, he deepened it. He kissed back softly at first, but that soft kiss was followed by a hard kiss, followed by another hard kiss, followed by feverish making out, his hands exploring and planning on completely ravishing John.

John quickly forgot about his previous plans of taking it slowly when Sherlock’s hand grabbed his arse and yanked John’s hips up as he thrust forward. His hands found Sherlock’s arse in return and they both pulled at the same time. Sherlock’s head fell down onto John’s shoulder.

“John,” he sighed out. John gave a shudder of pleasure at how it sounded. He kissed the top of Sherlock’s head and felt a smile against his shoulder. Sherlock began kissing at his shoulder. He kissed and moved and was at his neck where he nipped, then bit down a bit harder just to find out John’s reaction. Turns out, John didn’t like it much. He didn’t say so, but Sherlock could tell.

He instead began slowly dragging the tip of his tongue on John’s neck. This, he liked. His hands raked up Sherlock’s back, fingertips dragging with slight pressure in very specific areas. Sherlock gasped into John’s neck.

“Wh-what are you doing?” Sherlock groaned out, shuddering and breathing heavily, leaning closer while simultaneously arching towards John’s hands and nearly purring.

“I dono, pressure points,” John managed to stammer out as the thin, long limbed man on top of him thrust forward and groaned into his neck, hands pulling tight at his arse and breath hot on his neck.

“John,” Sherlock breathed out again. John’s fingers dug into several spots on Sherlock’s back. It really should have just felt good, but John supposed that Sherlock’s state of arousal made it sexually pleasing as well. Sherlock purred and licked up John’s neck again. John groaned.

“Sherlock, you’re being a tease,” John nearly whined before realising – it was Sherlock he was talking to. Probably not a good thing for him to say. Several things could happen, now. Sherlock could ignore him completely and do whatever, Sherlock could get angry and completely stop, or Sherlock could simply stop teasing and get on with the damn shagging, already. John was obviously hoping for the last one, now that the words were already out there.

Sherlock froze and a second later John let out a groan completely unrelated to anything sexual when he realised the one thing he hadn’t considered. He could feel the smirk against his skin, he could feel the slight chuckle deep in Sherlock’s chest – Sherlock found this a challenge.

“No, Sherlock, come on!” John actually did whine. Sherlock just smirked wider and pushed himself up. His eyes were heated, his face was flushed, and he looked completely gorgeous. His voice came out in a deep rumble.

“A tease, am I? My dear Doctor Watson, I’m afraid you don’t know what teasing is. I don’t mind showing you, of course,” Sherlock kissed John’s jawline to his ear. He nipped and John gasped in pleasure. “I’m going to tease and tease until you feel like you’re going to explode,” he whispered into John’s ear. “I’m going to find all of your kinks and use them just enough so that it’s torture. I’m going to make you want me so badly, that even after I give in today, you won’t be able to think much of anything else for weeks.” 

John groaned in annoyance. Knowing Sherlock, he could do just that. All of it.

“Yeah? Well, what if I take control?” John grumbled.

“Then I shall say “No,” making any move past that considered rape,” Sherlock stated, pushing himself up slightly to look at John’s glare. Sherlock smiled at him. John opened his mouth to speak, but Sherlock interrupted before he even made a sound. “You won’t say no. You wouldn’t, you couldn’t.” John scoffed and clearly didn’t notice that Sherlock was challenging him.

“I could, I can, and I—Yeah, I’ll say no. I say no. No.”

“Oh, very smooth. Alright,” Sherlock got off of John and slid to the other side of the bathtub where he sat down to begin with. John blinked in surprise and they sat there in silence for a while. John kept fidgeting, which made him accidentally brush his leg against Sherlock’s several times, which was just not helping at all. Sherlock was holding back a chuckle, keeping a straight face and seemingly relaxing in the warm bath water.

The thing about warm water, John could tell you, is that it does nothing to calm you down when you’re incredibly aroused.

He gave out a little helpless groan and leaned forward, but was suddenly, though carefully, pushed back where he was by Sherlock, who climbed back on top of him.

“Sh-Sherlock, what are you doing?”

“You clearly changed your mind, John. Now, where was I?” Sherlock looked him over and John just stammered about how he didn’t really say anything, so technically he had still said no, and that, well, he means, screw it, he supposed, because it’s not as if he really could deny Sherlock at his point, he was on top of him, and just, okay, it was fine, he says yes again.

Sherlock really didn’t listen to the rambling. He dipped his head down and licked John’s nipples while studying his expression. John blinked down at him and Sherlock narrowed his eyes and nipped. John gasped and arched against him slightly with a shudder. Sherlock smirked up at him.

“You don’t like biting on the neck, but you like it other places…?” John looked at Sherlock with a slightly dazed frown.

“To be fair-“ but he was cut off abruptly as Sherlock began roughly, but slowly, pressing and rubbing circles on his nipples. His eyes fluttered shut and he felt Sherlock growl as he leaned closer, pinching and pulling and causing John to arch and his breathing to hitch.

And suddenly a hand was wrapped around his cock, stroking, and John jumped in surprise. Sherlock paused.

“No, don’t stop,” John groaned. Sherlock smirked and continued stroking, but moved his other hand away from John’s chest, it being replaced by Sherlock’s mouth. Sucking, nipping, and licking roughly, pulling the shudders and groans out of John.

It was quite sudden when John felt Sherlock’s fingers on his entrance. He hadn’t even realised Sherlock had put the lubricant on and was just wondering how it was staying on in the water when Sherlock shoved his fingers in and curled them at just the right spot, causing John to cry out.

“God, Sherlock,” John moaned, eyes closed and hands on the sides of the tub. He felt Sherlock pause and he blinked open his eyes. Heated gaze to heated gaze. It lasted a few long seconds.

“John,” Sherlock began in a rumble, “I think I’m going to hold off on the teasing.”

“Are you?” John breathed out in reply, slight relief bubbling up. “Why’s that?”

“Because…” Sherlock smirked a bit and curled his fingers, causing John to arch and moan out his name again. “Because of that.” John was breathing heavily and his eyes were a bit glazed when he opened them again.

Sherlock curled his fingers once more, his other hand reaching out of the tub for the tube he had brought with him. John really couldn’t help himself. He moaned out Sherlock’s name again and swiveled his hips.

Sherlock removed his fingers and John’s eyes snapped open in time to see Sherlock leaning over him. He was lined up and he pressed in slowly.

“Sherlock,” John said as a sort of question, or maybe a warning, his voice very breathy.

“Hm?” Sherlock said, mouth opening and closing as he tried to control his breathing. John opened his mouth to speak, but couldn’t seem to find the words, so his hands found Sherlock’s arse and pulled him in, slammed him in hard, and both of them moaned loudly, Sherlock resting his forehead on John’s. His eyes were closed and John’s eyes drank in his features as he began to smirk. His voice was also very breathy as he spoke. “Should the rest be like that, then?”

“Yes,” John replied, using a hand to tilt Sherlock’s face by his chin so he could kiss him. Sherlock moaned into the kiss and pulled out a bit before slamming back in, right into the spot his fingers had been at only moments before. They both gasped into the kiss and Sherlock set up a pace, his hand wrapping around John, putting them both at the same spot.

The pace quickened every time John moaned Sherlock’s name, which happened to be a lot. Neither of them could help it, and when Sherlock nipped at John’s ear, he felt the heat building up faster.

“Sh-Sherlock, I-“ John began, but Sherlock knew. He sped up, his own heat building up, and was slamming hard, faster and faster, right in the perfect spot, his hand also moving quickly. John cried out as he reached, squeezing around Sherlock, whose eyes rolled back slightly, closed and he slammed in a few more times, all the while working John through, before he spilled himself, breath uneven and sharp, rhythm completely lost.

Slowly, Sherlock stopped and let go of John, pulling out carefully, but not failing to notice the little noise John made when he did. He lowered himself next to John and his arms wrapped around him possessively. John was hazy, but seemed to be okay with it, as he leaned against him. They stayed still for a few minutes as their breathing went back to normal.

The thing about the water, now, was that they really couldn’t get clean in it at this point. Sherlock noticed it first and used his foot to release the drain. The water sunk down and John blinked when he finally realised there was no water in the tub. Sherlock let go gently and stood up, pulling John up with him and turning on the shower. It sprayed over both of them as they faced each other.

It finally set in what they did. John stared at Sherlock in slight shock, not sure what he was thinking. Sherlock really didn’t mind. He saw it coming.

“What? What is it?” Sherlock asked him, grabbing the soap and lathering it up in his hands.

“You… Were okay with that? What we just did?” he asked as he watched Sherlock’s hands travel over John’s body, his face a perfect picture of surprise.

“Obviously, John,” Sherlock drawled, scrubbing gently. “I wouldn’t have done it otherwise.” He left John to rinse himself off as he grabbed the soap to wash himself. There was more silence up until Sherlock moved John out of the way so that he could rinse himself off.

“And-“

“And, John,” Sherlock said, turning the shower off and stepping out of the tub, grabbing two towels. “I plan on keeping the promise I made.” He handed John a towel, but didn’t let go when John grabbed it. “Maybe not tonight, but I plan on making you squirm, even in public.” John’s ears turned red and Sherlock grinned at him, letting go and wrapping his own towel around his waist.

“I hope you’re ready for this, John,” Sherlock said as he shook off his head like a puppy, spraying water everywhere. “I’m not going to hold back,” he smirked at John before he left the bathroom, closing the door behind him.

The thing about water was that the bathroom was now completely covered in it.

The thing about water was that it looked amazing on Sherlock.

The thing about water was that it played a part in every plan Sherlock made in the future.

The thing about water was that John loved it.


End file.
